


Purple Prose

by Vashti (tvashti)



Series: Long Way Down [6]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Tin Man (2007)
Genre: Community: twistedshorts, Don't Say It With These Flowers, Established Relationship, F/M, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Say it with flowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-17 08:55:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8138056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tvashti/pseuds/Vashti
Summary: Azkadellia helps Oz find a gift for DG...but she's not entirely sure it's appropriate.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the August 2012 TwistedShorts fic-a-day ficathon. It almost killed me, but I had fun, and I was able to get a few more stories in for this series :)

“Is something the matter, Oz?”

Cracking a smile for his future sister-in-law, Oz turned toward Azkadellia as she approached him from the direction of the kitchen gardens. He levered himself up from his crouch and bowed.

As expected, the princess colored faintly. When he was feeling mischievous he’d doff his hat, whether or not he was actually wearing one, give her a deep, sweeping bow, and ask after Her Highness’ health and well-being. Laughing and blushing to her roots, Azkadellia would ask him to stop being silly and to please stop bowing. When he was feeling particularly mischievous, he would proclaim that there was no way he could stand in the face of such grace, wisdom and beauty, and would refuse to rise until Azkadellia had to manhandle him out of the bow.

She knew it was a game, one that often had her chuckling if ever she caught Oz’s eyes afterward. If not, Oz wouldn’t tease her in that way, knowing how false deference still hurt her. What he always found sad, though, was that she was all those things, grace and wisdom and beauty—she was absolutely her mother’s daughter—but refused to believe it. So he didn’t do it often. And today, though she seemed to be in good spirits, he was too distracted to do the game justice.

Quickly rising from his bow, Oz shrugged. “Can’t find what I’m looking for.”

“Oh, well, DG’s at the shooting range,” she said, briefly turning in that general direction. “I imagine it’s archery today, instead of firearms. I don’t hear anyone screaming for their lives.”

“Hmm, you’re probably right. But I’m not looking for Deeg.”

Azkadellia’s eyebrows rose. “Oh?”

“Not exactly.” Turning away from her, Oz crouched in the dirt again, certain that his sister-in-law would follow.

Though, between the two of them, Azkadellia was certainly the more proper sister, eschewing her place in the royal line seemed to have freed her from the stiffness of knowing the right thing to do now that she no longer had to do it. _No one cares what The Other Princess does,_ she’d said to him one day not long after giving up the crown. He’d caught her reading in the crook of a tree, the slipper of her left foot dangling from her toes. Lip curling in a way he’d only seen in pictures, she’d added, _So long as she doesn’t twitch her fingers at them._

Azkadellia dropped down beside him, her skirts ballooning up before settling in a rich green puddle. “What are we looking at, and what does this have to do with DG?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Pardon?”

“We’re looking at nothing.”

Eyeing him, Azkadellia quirked a brow. “I’m sorry Oz, perhaps this is an Other Side thing, but I don’t understand.”

“It is and it isn’t. Before we left for the Other Side, there were hyacinths coming up in this spot.”

Azkadellia nodded. “Yes. This is where the gardeners plant them every year. It’s their place.”

“Right. And by the time we were coming back home they were just blooming.”

“That sounds lovely. Hyacinths really do have the best scent. That’s why they’re planted here, you know, so that the royal family might be able to smell them from their rooms.”

Oz bobbed his head. “That explains it.”

“Explains what, Oz?”

He turned to his almost-sister-in-law. “Sorry, Az. DG spent the entire trip trying to figure out what that really nice flower smell was that she was used to waking up to. Then we sniffed some on the way home, found the name and… no flower smell when we actually got back.”

“Oh.” Azkadellia smiled softly. “Poor Deeg. Are you trying to find them for her?”

He cracked a smile. “Basically.”

“You’re a sweetheart, Oz.”

He shrugged. “Only if I find these flowers.”

“Well, they’re out of season now. I suppose the palace is either in a different temperate zone than wherever it was you left from, or time was simply flowing at a different rate between your departure and return.”

Oz’s smile grew. Only in the OZ did that sentence make sense. “So it’s a lost cause.”

“Not entirely. I believe the head gardener grows some in the greenhouses.”

“Really?”

“I couldn’t be sure as I’ve always had a brown thumb, but it’s possible. It might be a nice escape for you and Deeg.”

“Actually I was planning on having cut flowers brought to her room.”

Horror crossed Azkadellia’s face. “Hyacinths? You want to cut hyacinths?”

“Um, yeah?”

"Whatever for?" Azkadellia’s horror seemed to be growing, but Oz couldn’t understand why.

"To put them in DG’s room."

"Where she can touch them?"

"If she wants, but mostly I was hoping she’d smell them."

Expression going from horror to deep consternation, Azkadellia frowned. "I suppose that’s not so bad."

Brows drawn, Oz gave her a quizzical look. "I’ve seen cut flowers all over the palace. What’s with the hyacinth reaction?"

"You don’t know?"

"Are they the royal symbol of the OZ."

"Never!"

Oz blinked. "Oookay."

Looking a bit ill, Azkadellia offered to show him to the greenhouse. "Have you been?"

"Not yet."

***

"You wants to do what?"

The Head Gardener had been civil to them both when they showed up at his glass door. Whether this was because they were both below his notice or because of the princess’ known brown thumb, Oz couldn’t tell, but the moment Azkadellia mentioned the cut hyacinths for DG he was completely in her corner.

Azkadellia repeated Oz’s request. The older man shook his head. "To the back. With the rest."

"Thank you, sir."

He touched the brim of a hat that had seen better days. "Pleasure’s mine, Your Highnesses."

Coloring, Azkadellia glanced at Oz. He shrugged. He wasn’t exactly comfortable with the title, either, but it didn’t mean much to him one way or the other. DG was important. The title... It was a title.

In the muggy warmth of the greenhouse, the thick scent of hyacinths reached them long before they found the flowers. "How far back did he say?" Oz asked.

Azkadellia glanced back. "He didn’t." And they kept going. When they passed something she recognized, she pointed it out to him, but the walk was warm and silent otherwise. Oz’s eyes darted around. The further back they went, the more sinister the plants seemed to become. And the hyacinths were back here?

"It’s almost overpowering, isn’t it?" Azkadellia said as they got closer.

Oz nodded. "I think I see them," he murmured. Amongst all the dark greens, grim blacks, and almost flesh-tone shades of pink, the bright purple heads of nodding hyacinths shown like a beacon. "How many do you think it’ll take to fill DG’s room?"

"With hyacinth flowers?" Azkadellia’s eyes were wide.

"Just scent."

She shook herself. "I don’t know...three heads? Maybe four?"

"And the gardener won’t mind?"

"They’re for the royal family and you’re as good as family. But won’t you at least reconsider?" she said as Oz stepped past her.

Tossing a smile over his shoulder, he searched for and found a pair of sheers. "I really don’t understand why you’re freaking out, Az. They’re just flowers." He approached the table with the blooming, potted stems. "DG and I had our faces in them on the Other--"

"NO!"

Azkadellia lunged for Oz, sparing his face—but his arms, braced on the side of the table, weren’t so lucky. "What the--"

"Oh, Oz! Let me find some pliers!"

***

"Mmm, Oz, do you smell that? So good!" DG squeezed Oz’s arm as they made their way to her room. "Where is that coming from? And how can I steal it from them? You’ll help me, right?"

"No, sorry."

"What?"

They stopped in front of her door. "I already stole it once. I don’t want to have to go through that again."

A smile blossoming, she turned to him. "You stole for me."

"No big. It just cost me some blood cells."

"Really?" Oz pushed up one of his sleeves to show off his scars. Which had mostly healed. DG gave him a look. "Oh yes, poor baby. I feel so bad for you."

He kissed her cheek, then pushed the door open for her. Sitting on a small table not 3 feet from her oversized doors was a vase with four, full-bloom hyacinth stems.

"Oh Oz!" DG threw her arms around him then pulled away. "They’re gorgeous! How did you get them to be purple and red?"

"I fed them."

"Thank you!" She threw her arms around him again, kissing his cheek hard enough to bruise— "Omigosh, that smell!"—before dashing into the room.

"DG! NO!"

Fin[ite]


End file.
